


The Nomad and Violet

by Unclesteeb



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dogs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Guilt, M/M, Multi, Nomad Steve Rogers, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sexual Content, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers-centric, Steve saves a Pit Bull, Suicidal Thoughts, True Love, and then she saves him, mentioned animal abuse, mentioned thoughts of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-11-13 22:31:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11194794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unclesteeb/pseuds/Unclesteeb
Summary: He doesn't have a home anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The majority of this fic (so far) has been posted on tumblr. You can find it in my [Steve and Violet tag](unclesteeb.tumblr.com/tagged/steve-and-violet)! This fic has been such a wonderful thing to write. I've laughed, I've cried and I'm just so happy to have the chance to give Steve a big ole dog to love on. 
> 
> There's also been some AMAZING art for this verse!! Check out Violet with her out-of-verse bud, FUBAR in these wonderful pieces by [Yawpkatsi](http://yawpkatsi.tumblr.com/post/159752071457/yawpkatsi-guys-please-not-in-front-of-the) and [Cal-aus](http://cal-aus.tumblr.com/post/159024900695/when-you-fall-asleep-on-the-floor-while-playing)! Also, [here's a really adorable little Violet doodle by Yapkatsi](https://unclesteeb.tumblr.com/post/160742865041/hello-i-drew-u-a-violet-to-cheer-u-up-shes) with her sitting on her bearded dad's lap :). 
> 
> I hope you all love this as much as I love writing it.

He doesn't have a home anymore. 

Bucky's in cryo. Sam's by his side, but Steve would rather die than live another day knowing that time and time again Sam will throw away everything just for him. Maybe that’s why he leaves. Steve does what he thinks is necessary, he grows a beard, moves from place to place without setting his roots down.

In a dreary town in Ohio, he meets Violet. 

Steve’s doing something he does all too often recently, wandering the streets in the dark and the cold when he hears the soft crying of a dog. He follows the noise down a few alleyways. An unenhanced person wouldn’t have heard a thing, which is why Steve takes it upon himself to check on the animal. It sounds wounded. His stomach clenches in anticipation. He’s never been a big dog or a cat guy, never really had the time or the immune system to love one, but he still hates the thought of an animal hurting. Finally, behind a dumpster he sees the scariest looking pit bull he’s ever seen chained to a brick wall. She’s brown with white spots over her torso and legs with a big white spot covering her left eye. Steve can tell that the dog needs help. Her skin is broken where the chain is cutting into it. 

He approaches her slowly with his hands raised. He knows that a dog bite won’t kill him, but it won’t feel very good either. The dog bares her teeth and growls but her eyes- her eyes are broken and pleading. Steve’s suddenly reminded of Bucky trapped under a giant piece of metal from the falling helicarrier. He was so scared, so sure that Steve was just going to come over and finish him off. The second that Steve freed him, Bucky was back attacking him. Will the dog do that to him too? He knows that pit bulls are strong, but he also knows that he’s stronger. 

“Hey there,” Steve tells the dog. She (Steve thinks it’s a she even though he can’t tell right now) doesn’t back down. “I wanna get you out. I can break that. I’m very strong.” He’s really not sure why he’s telling the dog this, but he keeps at it. “It just looks like it’s hurting you and you look cold. I hope you have a collar on under that. I can bring you home.” When Steve’s about two feet from her and bracing to get bitten, she does something that Steve doesn’t expect. She stops growling and sits down. “Good girl.” Steve says. “That’s it.”

He figures it’s best to get her free as quickly as possible so he reaches both hands under the chain around her neck and snaps the metal with his fingers. “There.” He steps back quickly in case the dog’s changed her opinion about him. “All free.” Steve expects her to run off (he’s close enough to tell that the dog is really a ‘she’) but instead she closes the distance between them again, sitting down right next to his feet. 

Steve smiles a little, just allowing one side of his mouth to turn up. He gingerly crouches down next to her. She does have a collar on, it’s a faded and dirty pink one but he can read the tag on it. 

Violet 111 Elmwood Street 

Steve frowns. That street name sounds familiar. “Is that nearby?” The dog- Violet- tilts her head to the right and looks at him. Her eyes are less afraid now. Steve slowly reaches a hand out to give her a pet on her head. Violet leans towards him, urging him on. Something inside Steve’s chest loosens as he scratches her head and behind her ears. She leans even closer to him, pushing her stocky body into his. “Hey!” He chuckles, laughing. It does feel good, having someone warm close to him. He’d forgotten how that felt, especially when it was cold out. 

“We gotta get you home.” He tells her, full on smiling now. He stands and motions with his hand. “Come on, Violet.” 

She does follow him, trotting carefully at his side. She’s a really big dog, and a dirty one too. She definitely needs some medicine for her neck and probably paws. It’s cold enough that Steve figures whoever chained her up hasn’t had her out there long. Maybe it was some young kids or something. 

“Here’s Elmwood. 105, 107, 109 and here we-” he stops so abruptly that violet trots a few paces ahead of him before turning around. The house is white on the outside. It’s definitely unkempt, but that’s not what’s bothering Steve. 

Hell, right now he mostly lives in a 2001 Jeep Cherokee. Tonight he’s staying in a hotel that might give anyone else some kind of infection. He’s only doing so on Sam’s insistence (and because a mysterious bank card with the name ‘James Wilson’ appeared underneath his car seat the other day). He and Natasha keep finding him, no matter how many new phones he gets or how far he runs. 

What’s bothering Steve about 111 Elmwood Street is that the back yard is enclosed by a brick wall. The same brick wall Violet was attached to. There’s no way that Steve can let her go back to that. He’ll figure it out. 

Steve sighs and looks down at the pup. “Okay, guess you’re coming with me then, huh?” 

Xxx 

Washing a giant dog in a hotel bathroom is harder than it looks. Violet, who’s probably traumatized even more now, is resting on the foot of Steve’s bed. She’s as curled up as a dog of her size can be, her paw tucked over her eye so that just the tip of the white spot covering it shows. 

He’s halfway through mopping up he bathroom floor when the brand new cell phone he bought today starts ringing. He rolls his eyes, but answers anyway. 

“Yeah?” 

“How do you like Columbus?” It’s Sam. Something inside Steve’s soul warms despite his pleading of it not to. The hold Sam has on his heart’s so tight that just hearing Sam’s voice makes Steve’s heart ache to be able to pull him close and keep him there. If only he could just keep him safe at the same time. He swallows thickly, mouth suddenly dry. 

“It’s cold and nasty. I found a dog though.” 

“A dog?” 

“Yeah. Her name’s Violet and for some reason she likes me. Followed me back to my hotel.” There’s no use lying to Sam right now. Steve’s sure that he knows exactly what room number he’s in. 

Sam hums, considering. “You have a new friend I guess. Bucky like dogs?” 

“Used to.” Steve says, remembering Bucky stopping to pet the strays he’d see walking around the city. Remembering Bucky making him laugh by imitating that awful hound that lived across the alley. 

Remembering Bucky, scooting closer as Steve laughed and laughed, closing the distance between them, pulling Steve in- “I’m not sure if he does any more. Do you?” 

“Yeah. So you can bring your new daughter back home when you come. I’ll even get her a bed.” 

Steve looks at Violet, now sleeping, on the foot of his bed. “Nonsense. She’s going to sleep with us.” 

“Bucky can just sleep in her bed instead.” 

The comment takes Steve by surprise and he laughs so loud he startled himself. “You’re so mean.” 

“You better come back soon or I’ll even build you a dog house.” 

“Sam, you know I can’t. I-” 

“Just, just shut up. We’ve been through this long enough now that I know you’re not coming back right away. Steve I just miss you, okay?” 

“I-yeah.” Steve doesn’t know why he won’t let himself say it back, but he’s terrified that if he admits it, maybe he’ll never be able to stop. “You heard anything about him?” 

“Nothing new, but they’re making progress.” 

“Okay.” Steve lets out, exhaling shakily at the thought of Bucky being okay, Bucky being _free_. “Yeah okay.” 

“He’s gonna beat you home.” 

“I know.” Sam’s quiet on the other end of the phone for a while. Steve can feel him seething from states away. After a few minutes, Steve’s pulled away from the sound of Sam’s breathing by Violet barking and then running to the hotel door. 

“Hey, Sam, I gotta go. The dog has to pee.” 

“Okay then, doggy daddy. You go handle things.” Steve almost wants to cry. It’s harder than it has been to say goodbye this time. It aches in his fucking bones. He’s been gone so damn long. 

“I’m sure you’ll find me again soon. And hey, find me extra fast if you hear anything new, okay?” 

“Always.” Sam whispers right before he hangs up. Steve drops his head to the shoddy hotel desk in front of him. He’s doing the right thing. He knows he is. So why does he just want to stop? Violet barks again, reminding Steve of her predicament. 

“Sorry Vi.” Steve stands up and pulls on his coat. “After this you and I are going to get a couple hours of shut eye. Tomorrow we’re gonna get you checked out and then we’re gonna keep on moving. How’s that sound?” 

Violet barks.

Early on in his travels, Steve wondered where he was going to visit. It was still summer then so he went north. He got himself a tent and some supplies and decided he was going to climb the Catskills.

It was a beautiful climb, the foliage was green and the ground was warm. The streams he found were fresh and cool on his tongue and body. He didn’t speak for days and days, didn’t need to, didn’t want to. He was where he should be, alone.

He stood at the top of one of the mountain ridge’s many peaks and looked out to the trees below. Steve closed his eyes and breathed in the crisp, warm air- but it was sharp and cold. When he opened his eyes again he found himself standing on top of a peak in the alps. Snow covered the jagged peaks and cliffs below where he stood. His breathing quickened. How did he-? Is this even-?

He could hear something- someone in the distance. He slowed his breathing enough to listen.

“Steve! Steve I’m down here!”

It can’t fucking be. No way.

“Come get me, _please_! Come help me!”

“Bucky?” Steve started to frantically look for a way down. There was nothing, no trail, nothing for him to jump down on to.

“Please don’t leave me! Steve _please_ come back for me! I thought you loved me!”

“Bucky!” Steve couldn’t breathe. He was having an asthma at- no, that’s not right. This body can’t do things like that. He just can’t get enough air. His eyes sting with it. “I do! I do love you!”

“Why did you leave me? They took me because you didn’t come back for me!”

“Bucky I’m sorry!” Steve could jump down. Maybe they could both get taken together. He sits down at the edge of the cliff, expecting the snow on the ground to chill him right through his suit, but he just feels damp warmth.

He closes his eyes and prepares himself to jump. It’s the only way he can get to Bucky.

“Please! I need you!” Bucky’s voice is getting quieter with every deep breath Steve takes. Then suddenly it’s gone, and there are… birds? He feels the warm sun on his cheeks. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the Catskills during the summertime. He gasped his way back to reality for a while. He should have been relieved. He’s had these types of flashbacks before. Sam told him that they’re normal, Sam has them too. 

Relief was the furthest thing from Steve’s mind. He had managed to fail Bucky, again.

“Mr. Wilson?”

It takes a second for Steve to remember that that’s him. He stands up and heads over to the veterinary assistant’s desk. “That’s me.”

She gives him a warm smile. She’s a cute girl with curly brown hair and sweet brown eyes. She’s a woman, probably his age. Well, not his actual age, but- he cuts his train of thought off. He could spend hours trying to figure that out. But it doesn’t matter. It’s not like he’s looking for someone to make time with right now.

“Violet’s all done. She’s in mostly good shape for a dog of her breed that’s been subjected to obvious abuse and neglect.”

Steve nods, smiles.

“But Mr. Wilson, it’s not our policy to let her go with you because you found her. Technically, you stole her. The policy is that we are to open an investigation on her original owners, find her a foster family until the neglect is proven and then after that, if you are still interested in her we could start the adoption process at that point.”

When Steve was standing on that mountain in the Catskills, after he came back from his flashback he decided that he would go to the Alps one day. Maybe after Bucky was out of cryo. Maybe after he made up with Tony. When everything was settled again, he’d go back. He’d find the cliff where he and Bucky stood before they jumped on Zola’s train.

You see, Steve knows that a super soldier can survive the fall, but maybe, maybe-

That’s been his plan for months now. He wanted to head to Europe in a few months. He’d figure out a way. Natasha would probably help him get more fake documents to travel with.

This morning as he was lying in the first bed he’s slept in for about a month, he was woken up by a wet, sloppy tongue licking the side of his face. He woke up smiling, laughing, saying, “Vi that’s just gross.” Violet didn’t think so, and instead decided climbing all over him and slobbering all over his entire face was a good idea.

It’s hard enough to get fake travel documents for one person, but a dog too? It’d be almost impossible. Violet keeps Steve from leaving the country. Violet keeps Steve from going to the Alps and seeing if maybe the fall will take him out.

So why does his heartbeat pick up the second he hears that Violet won’t be able to come back with him? Shouldn’t he be happy to be alone?

“I- uh” Steve starts but the woman cuts him off.

“I said that’s our policy. But that’s not what we’re doing today, Mr. Wilson.” She gives him a wink. “You take care of that girl, okay?”

Steve lets out a shuddering breath, he’s smiling before he realizes it, his limbs loosening. Violet’s okay and staying with him. “Yes! Yes. Of course I will.”

Steve pays the bill (which he suspects is highly discounted) and in a few minutes Violet comes thundering out from the exam rooms.

“Hey girl!” Steve says, dropping to his knees to meet her. She slams into him at full speed, kissing at his face. He wraps both arms around her. She’s warm and solid under his hands, grounding. 

There’s a new thing that Steve knows for sure now. He’s never going to let anything happen to Violet again, no matter where he has to stay. 

Steve can’t believe it, but he likes the country.

Mostly, he likes the rolling hills and long stretches of highways. He likes the open sky and the view of the stars that seem to glitter everywhere he can see. He’s not used to that, being from the city. 

He’s been to remote locations before for missions and in the war, but there’s something about just being able to look up and count the constellations without the fear of being shot, without being in a rush, without feeling anything at all. Without having a bundle of jumbled up nerves in your belly, hiding behind a tree, sharing a kiss with the guy who’s supposed to be your best friend, your sniper, your buddy but he’s looking up at the stars and they’re making a halo on his brown-

He’s just not used to it.

Steve’s favorite thing about the country isn’t the sky or the hills or seeing animals on their farms from the road. It’s a simple pleasure that he’s never even considered before.

It’s watching Violet ride in his passenger seat with her head out the window.

She puts her entire giant face out of it. At first he was a little worried she might fall out, but he figured out pretty quickly that she’s strong enough to stick half her body out the window and stay put.

She opens her mouth and lets her tongue hang out of it like she can taste the air. It looks like she’s smiling when she does it. Her ears flop in the wind and get turned inside out. She looks ridiculous but she looks _happy_ and she looks _free_. It makes Steve smile (and if he’s being honest with himself, it makes him ache with jealousy). Her tail wags so hard sometimes it hits him in the leg. It makes him laugh which then makes her remember his presence, which then makes her try and fit herself into Steve’s lap while he’s driving. She usually ends up with her head on Steve’s thigh, looking up at him in a way that makes Steve want to pet her. So he does, and they drive and they drive. Her fur feels warm and soft underneath Steve’s fingertips.

“Having fun yet?” Is the text that he gets somewhere in Tennessee. He knows it’s either Natasha and Sam. He hasn’t talked to Sam since the day he found Violet. He hasn’t talked to Nat since a few weeks before that. He can tell by the fact that the text comes from an actual phone number and not something anonymous and untraceable that it’s Sam. _Sam._

He doesn’t bother answering with any words. He doesn’t really have a concrete answer. Right now, things aren’t so bad. They’re parked up by a little lake. It’s a nice warm day. Violet’s head is in his lap and she’s asleep.

Steve knows that this was his choice, leaving. No one asked him to, no one hinted at it. Steve knew that he couldn’t keep asking Sam to give and give and tear his life to shreds anymore. But he knew that Sam wouldn’t stop until he was made to.

So why does thinking about Sam hurt this much? Why does it make his fists curl into themselves so hard his knuckles turn white? Why does it make his chest ache and his stomach churn? Why does he want nothing more than to just drive on back to New York and kiss and hold Sam until he’s forced to stop?

Why can’t he just let Sam go? Does he even want to?

Maybe he should just go home. Maybe-

The next text that comes through is a picture of a pile of pancakes with the caption, ‘You’re missing out.’

Steve has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep himself under control. Pancakes and Sam- Natasha too sometimes- they go together in his mind so well. Early morning pancakes and syrup-sweet kisses. Late night pancakes, sharing a plate and a fork. Middle of the night pancakes, the two (sometimes three) of them up for reasons that were sometimes fun and sometimes horrid. Coffee-scented kisses while Steve washed the dishes, scrubbing the syrup off of the plate because Sam never runs water on his.

He takes his nondescript, outdated phone and snaps a picture of Violet snoozing with her head on Steve’s knee and sends it to Sam with the caption, ‘I know.’ Since he really does know, he just also knows he has no other choice. At least he has good company.


	2. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Violet met Natasha

Natasha finds him three weeks later outside of Los Angeles.

It’s unseasonably hot and Steve’s sitting on a bench at a dog park that he and Violet had found earlier. They’d been driving for a while, so he didn’t even feel a bit guilty about stopping to let Violet get out and stretch her legs. The sun’s beating down so hard on his skin that he’s afraid to look and see just how sunburnt he is. They’re the only ones in the dog park right now but that doesn’t seem to stop Violet any. She’s running laps around the giant fenced-in field, leaving Steve to sit alone like he’s chopped liver.

He hears her approach, which is something that takes him by surprise. She wouldn’t normally let him hear her like that unless she thought he needed it.

“Sam wasn’t joking. You really found a dog.”

Steve huffs, “Nice to see you too.”

She slides into the seat next to him on the bench. She smells sweet, like warm vanilla. She’s wearing sandals, a pair of jean shorts, a plain purple tee shirt and-

“Your hair is blonde.”

Her hair’s cut a little shorter than the last time he saw her, just a few months ago when she found him at a diner in New Hampshire. It’s curly in the way it is right after she washes it and it’s dyed a nice blonde color.

“You like it? I wanted a change.” She’s smiling with a glint in her eye. He already knows his answer.

“Nope.”

“You never did like change, Rogers.” Her eyes drift out to Violet who’s now resting in the sun. “Except for this. You seem to like this enough.”

Steve looks out at Violet too. “It’s okay. Would be a lot worse without her.”

“He’s back. Got back three weeks ago.“ She says it all in a rush.

Steve’s heart- it does something funny. It flips so hard it actually aches for a moment. It skips a beat, maybe. It sends him feeling like he’s a hundred pounds again. It sends him feeling like he has to press his hand down on his chest to keep it inside. He does without thinking. He used to do that too, back when his heart really was defective.

He doesn’t need to ask who.

“Did they-?”

“Yes.”

Steve swallows hard, his hand’s still on his chest. There’s a lump in his throat.

“He and Sam?”

She doesn’t answer right away and it tells him everything he needs to know. This is why she’s here. This is why Sam hasn’t called him in weeks.

They’re moving on without him.

“Doing just fine.”

He reads between the lines, thinking about it. Thinking about Sam and Bucky finding comfort and maybe even love with each other. He wants to be there, between them, beside them. He closes his eyes- just for a moment- and lets himself imagine. Is there enough room for him and Violet in their home? In their lives? He thinks of Bucky’s apartment in Romania. He was living. If Zemo hadn’t- if Steve hadn’t-

Their bed’s too small for him to fit now, he figures.

“That’s good. They both deserve it.” He opens his eyes again and looks into hers. “You do too.”

“Steve,” she starts, but that’s just when Violet comes thundering over to the both of them.

“Hey Vi!” Steve rubs over her ears and back. Her tail’s wagging. She hasn’t quite noticed Natasha yet. Natasha, who’s gone completely still beside him.

Violet notices too, sitting down at Steve’s feet. Natasha looks at Violet, then at him. Steve’s never seen her look this nervous. Violet cocks her head, considering.

 _Red in my ledger_ , Steve thinks.

“Hi Violet.” Is all Natasha has to say before Violet shoves herself all into Natasha’s space, putting her giant head onto her lap. Natasha makes a surprised noise and looks up at Steve for the briefest of moments before lowering her hand to scratch at Violet’s ears. She lets out her breath in a little laugh. “She’s a brute.”

“I know.”

After a few moments Violet decides she’s had enough pets and decides it’s time to run again.

Natasha’s posture loosens with every passing minute. Steve kind of wants to hold her. He always does after she shows him a part of herself like that. He’d always get her to let him eventually. He remembers one time after a mission (he doesn’t let himself remember it, but it knocked them all on their asses) she’d let him and Sam see her cry, just for a moment. Steve found himself inching closer and closer to her as the night went on, practically aching with the need to pull her close. Finally Sam had said, “Nat just hug the man. He’s gonna explode.” And then Natasha had laughed and Steve scooped her up into his arms bridal style and even carried her into his and Sam’s bedroom like that, all three of them laughing. He had tossed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her and kissed her, still giggling. Sam had followed them both in and Steve made room for him right between them. Then they’d both kissed on Sam since it was always easier to do that than it was to think about why they were looking for the distraction in the first place.

Steve might be a runner, but Natasha is too.

She snaps him out of his memories by wrapping both of her hands around one of his. He blinks, then looks up at her.

“The first person he asked about was you.”

“You said they were doing fine.”

“They are.”

“Then, Nat, they should just be left to move on. Without me.”

She shakes her head. “They miss you.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“No.” She says. There’s something shaky about the way she says it that Steve doesn’t like. “They won’t.” She takes one of her hands away from his and cups his jaw. “We won’t.”

Steve knows it’s hot out but that doesn’t explain the sudden flash of heat that runs through his veins like a wildfire. It’s been so long since he’s been touched, been touched like that. Her lips are so close- right there. Her entire body is close to his. When did it get this close? His mouth runs dry. He licks his lips. 

“Nat, you, Sam, you’ll-” She interrupts him by kissing him.

Her lips are softer than he remembered them being, but he remembers how to kiss her. He remembers that she only likes the tiniest bit of tongue. He remembers that she likes his hand cupping the back of her neck. She must remember too, because she makes that noise in the back of her throat that’s always driven Steve crazy.

Steve didn’t remember, however, how damn good it felt to touch someone, to kiss someone. It sets him on fire from the inside out. It makes him breathe heavy and squeeze at Natasha’s thigh. She pulls them apart then. Her cheeks are pink.

“I was just trying to shut you up.”

Now his cheeks are pink too. He ducks his head and rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Where are you sleeping tonight?”

That gets him to look back up at her. He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I have somewhere, where I’m staying. A safe house. You guys can come too, if you want.”

It’s a loaded question and Steve knows it. Her hand is still around his bicep. She plays with the end of his shirt sleeve, then slides her fingers up under it just a bit.

“Okay.” He answers, realizing a second too late why she left her hand on his arm. “You’re a menace.”

She grins. “I’ll buy you both dinner on the way.”

The house that Steve follows her to is a pretty big home by the beach. It’s beautiful- too beautiful, too extravagant. Steve recognizes the decorative style the second he heads inside.

“You made up with Tony.” He isn’t asking.

“Not just me.”

“Bucky?”

“They’re legal again. Bucky for the first time, actually. It was complicated considering he’s been legally dead for seventy years.”

“Am I?” He’s rubbing at Violet’s ears absentmindedly. She’s found herself a cozy spot on the couch. She’s drifting asleep already, all that running and playing taking its toll.

“Do you want to be?”

Steve shrugs. He hasn’t really considered it a possibility. Natasha stands over him. She wants Steve to look at her, but he decides to surprise her and pull her down into his lap. She squeals and Violet picks her head up to make sure there’s not any real danger.

“Sorry to wake you, but your dad is being annoying.” Natasha tells her. She reaches out to pet Violet’s ears and head. Violet quickly settles back down into her resting position. Natasha relaxes too, laying her head on Steve’s shoulder and letting him wrap an arm around her middle. “Dogs don’t like me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It’s because they know I’m a killer. They can smell it on me, I think.”

Steve stops petting Violet and moves to play with Natasha’s hair instead. Natasha keeps her hands on Violet, petting her enough for the both of them.

“What about Lucky?” He feels like he would have heard about if Clint’s dog hated Natasha before now.

“Lucky’s just dumb.”

“You callin’ my dog dumb?” Steve gives her hair a playful yank.

Natasha giggles, “Maybe I am.”

“Don’t listen to her Violet, she doesn’t know anything.”

Natasha whacks him on the arm. “Let her sleep. You need a shower.”

“You coming with me?”

“Absolutely not. I’m terrified to see what you’re going to wash off of you.”

Steve doesn’t realize how long he’s been in the shower until the curtain’s pulled back and Natasha’s stepping inside. She’s naked, stunning as she ever was this way. Steve gives her a look. “Thought you weren’t going to join me.”

“I knew you were in here moping about your boyfriends fucking each other and the whatever ridiculous reason you’ve come up with for why you can’t just go home and join the fun.”

“Nat-”

“Save it. I just need you to know one thing. We miss you, okay? We miss you every day. We don’t feel right without you, Steve. And,” She takes a big breath. Steve realizes that she’s upset, then. She’s really upset. She’s not just putting him on. “I’m really mad at you for going in the first place.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, since there’s nothing that could be of use. He’s not coming back and he’s not apologizing for doing what had to be done.

“I know that you’re gonna fuck me and then you and your dog will be gone by morning. But don’t you dare drive another mile without knowing how much you’re hurting us. Got it?”

Steve nods.

“Good.”

The first time that Natasha and Steve ever fucked was a few weeks after Steve moved to D.C. Sure, they’d flirted a little here and there but it wasn’t until they were both working for SHIELD that Natasha made it her duty to welcome him into this century. She’d drag him to museums and exhibits. She’d bring over movies and popcorn. Neither of them had seen ‘Love Actually’. By halfway through, they managed to find a better use for their time.

There were so many times after that, the two of them knew each other’s bodies so well. They still do, apparently.

It comes back in a rush that takes his breath away. The feeling of skin against skin. The feeling of lips against lips. The feeling of being down on his knees in the shower, licking into her while she throws a leg over his shoulder and shakes. The feeling of being inside her. He keeps her close, arms like a vice, and she keeps flipping their positions. At first he wonders if it’s him, and lets her go, pulls her on top of him and leans back onto the pillows. She surprises him, leaning down to wrap a hand in his hair as he moves, kissing his lips, his neck, his chest. She doesn’t want to let him go either, he realizes. This is just as just as much for her as it is for him. His skin shivers with it. He bumps their noses together as she tightens up, gets overwhelmed and cries out into his open mouth. He tumbles after her. She doesn’t let up even when he tries to move her.

“Not yet.” She’s not moving anymore, just staying close, letting him stay inside of her.

It’s not long before Steve can go again. He flips them and this time she comes with her nails digging sharp into his back as she holds him close. He comes pulling at her shoulder with his teeth, gasping.

He’s not sure when they stop- if they actually stop because maybe they just fall asleep. He wakes up once in the dark just long enough to clean them both up. She shifts, making little sleepy sounds. Sam and Steve both always loved how she did that when they got up around her to go for a morning run. He brushes a strand of her foreign blonde hair out of her eyes. She doesn’t look like herself like this. He thinks about her, about all the little pieces of herself that he showed her at once. He thinks about how peaceful she looks now. He feels that horrible ache in his chest again. He didn’t realize until this very moment just how much he missed her. He realizes that she must have missed him too, her earlier words crashing around him. His face twists up with it. He’s helpless to do anything but lie down next to her and breathe. If she misses him like that, then Sam could, then Bucky could too. He thinks about Violet and himself both curling up in a big bed with the three of them. Maybe they could find a bigger one. Maybe they should shove two together.

She makes another sleepy noise and turns to pillow her head on his chest. He wraps his fingers in her hair and lets himself drift off, imagining it. Coming home.

He’s awoken by a giant slobbering tongue before he knows it. “Hey!” He yelps, but he’s laughing too. “You’re so gross.” Violet just pants in his face. “You’re probably hungry and need to pee, don’t you girl?”

He gets himself dressed and leads Violet back downstairs, expecting Natasha to be sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee.

She’s not.

In her place is a black Amex. Written on it in silver letters are words he’s not used to seeing.

Steve Rogers

There’s a little handwritten note beside it in her recognizable scrawl.

“When you’re ready”

Steve sighs, his chest tightening up again. He doesn’t know why he expected her to be here after giving so much of herself to him the day before. It stings in a way that’s unfamiliar. It stings in a way that he probably deserves. He picks up the card and the note and tucks them into his pocket.

“Come on, Vi. Let’s get some breakfast and then hit the road again.” 


	3. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Violet and Steve save the day (and then Bucky saves them both)

The first thing Steve sees is the kid.

He’s not really a kid, probably in his mid-twenties, but he’s a skinny thing. It makes something inside Steve ache. He rubs Violet’s ears from the bench they’re sitting on. They’re still in California. Steve’s not sure why he likes it so much. He’s even been working under the table. He saw a few guys who were building a new house struggling with a big metal support beam last week. He headed over to them and ‘helped’ them out, begging that none of them would notice he was picking up the entire thing by himself.

He’s pretty sure they noticed. They offered him a job on the spot.

They’re a few blocks away from where Steve spent his day working now, sharing an ice cream cone.

“Want some?” He asks Violet. He offers the cone to her and she licks some off of the side.

Steve makes a face. “Why do you have to drool so much, huh?”

Violet doesn’t answer, but she does look rather proud when she licks her mouth clean.

Steve watches as the skinny kid crosses the street and then heads into the alleyway. His hands are in his pockets. His shoulders are so high, his back so straight.

Steve remembers what it feels like to stand exactly like that. Steve remembers what it feels like to force himself to, even though every muscle and bone in his body would cry out in protest.

“Here. The rest is yours.” Steve sets the ice cream cone on the bench next to Violet. He’s suddenly not hungry. It takes her barely half a minute to gobble the entire thing up and lick the bench clean.

The next thing that Steve sees, is the big guys who follow the skinny dude into the alleyway.

The next thing after that?

Police lights.

“Tell me again what happened.”

“He saved me.” The skinny guy says. “You should let him go. He saved me.”

The cop sighs, “I know. But I have two unconscious guys in an emergency room and haven’t heard anything past he _saved_ you. Saved you from what?”

The guy rubs the back of his neck.

The fourth thing Steve sees is something that he didn’t expect. It’s the skinny kid explaining to a police officer that he owed those guys some money. By the sound of the story, it doesn’t seem like the kid’s into too many legal activities. Steve has to swallow hard. He doesn’t quite know what to think. He wraps his hand tighter in Violet’s leash and takes half a step closer to her. She bumps up against his legs, warm and solid. This is the first time he’s done anything remotely close to what Captain America would do since he’s been away. He’s not to thrilled about his choice to do so. 

The police officer sighs. “You have anything on you?”

The kid shakes his head. The kid gets searched. The kid wasn’t lying.

Steve’s not why he’s still standing there. He’s had plenty of opportunities to slip away unnoticed. Just when the kid rounds the corner to walk away, Violet makes a loud ‘boof’. Steve rubs her head to keep her still.

“Okay hero. I’m taking you in.”

“What?” Steve asks. “Why? I was protecting him. You heard it!”

The cop motions to where the guys were lying before EMS came and got them. “You can’t just walk after you’ve put guys in the hospital. We gotta book you. If they press charges, you’ll have to defend yourself. On all accounts you struck first.”

Steve groans and runs a hand over his face. “Okay then.”

The cop takes Violet’s leash from Steve and handcuffs him. She starts whining immediately, shuffling her feet, trying to get closer to Steve again.

“Settle down, Vi.”

It doesn’t do anything but make it worse. She’s barking now, growling a little under her breath. She’s visibly upset. Steve can’t help it when his face crumples up. His palms start to sweat. He feels the handcuffs crumple under his fingertips and press hard into his skin. He could break them with the tiniest twist, but he can’t. He’s not legal. He can’t give himself away like that.“It’s okay girl. Sit.”

The cop touches his radio, then says, “Gonna need animal control-”

“No!” Steve shouts. He’s surprised at the roughness in his voice. Anger burns through him white hot. “No. She stays with me.”

“Pal, no can do. What’s she gonna do, wait in the car?” He presses his radio again, “Animal control to a scene.”

Steve practically growls and rips the handcuffs apart. “She stays with me.”

The cop’s eyes grow large and his mouth drops open. “Holy shit.”

Fear shoots through Steve’s entire body, smothering the burning anger like water onto a flame. His legs almost give out under him with the force of it. He’s so fucked. He’s so fucking stupid. “Oh god.”

“You’re- are you?” The cop takes a step closer to him and shines his flashlight into Steve’s face. “Holy shit. I thought you were dead, Cap.”

Steve winces at the nickname. “Is that the latest rumor?”

“Yeah. Ever since, you know. That’s what the press has been saying. Nothing official though.”

“Before you call them,” Steve’s still breathing heavily. He stands up and holds his still-cuffed hand out for Violet’s leash. “Can I call someone? For her. Please.” 

When they get to the station, it’s empty besides the two of them. Steve’s not surprised, the town is small. He’s actually grateful for it, and even more so for the fact that the cop hasn’t said a word to him since they left the scene.

“Make your call now.”

Steve’s heart throbs in his chest as he dials Sam’s number. It rings.

And rings

And rings

Then goes to voicemail.

Steve tries again. This time when Sam’s voice tells him to leave a message, he does.

“Hey Sam. It’s me, Steve. I, uh, well I’m in California. Outside of San Jose. I’m actually at a police station right now and I need someone to come get Violet. I don’t know Natasha’s number and well, I didn’t have anyone else to call.” Saying it out loud makes Steve have to close his eyes. Sam hasn’t called him since before Natasha came to see him. He has Bucky now. He’s fine. He doesn’t need Steve anymore. Steve’s done too much, been away far too long. “If you could call back here, maybe? They’re gonna take her away if no one comes, Sam. Please, I just-” Steve takes a deep shuddering breath. “I need help. I can’t lose her.”

Steve hangs up the phone before he says anything else horrible and unnecessary. His head falls into his hands.

Violet nudges Steve’s leg and he rests his hand between her ears without looking up. She puts her big head on his thigh. The weight of her helps and reminds him to keep breathing, as if this body could ever stop.

The cop sighs. “You think she’ll be okay if you go into your cell?”

“She can come too.” Steve suggests. The cop seems to think that’s acceptable and leads them both inside. Before he shuts the door Steve asks, “Why are you treating me like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like I didn’t just break the law. Like I’m not wanted worldwide for,” He makes a sweeping gesture with his hands. “I don’t even remember anymore.” 

The cop answers easy, “I had your poster on my wall from the time I was three years old on. I used to look at it before I went to bed and imagine us fighting together. Doing good shit, you know?”

Steve somehow swallows past the lump in his throat. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Violet hop up to the metal bench next to him and attempt to curl up on it. He feels immensely guilty that she’s going through this. Maybe she’d be better off without him too.

“I remember being a teenager. Mad as hell about everything. I used to ask myself what Steve Rogers would do.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Steve starts. “I’m a coward.” It’s the first time he’s said it out loud. It’s the closest he’s gotten to acknowledging what he’s actually doing out here. He’s running. He’s running from guilt. He’s running from shame. He’s running from the pain that he’s carried inside for years and years, both locked away inside him under the ice and out of it. He knows it, but he has a damn good reason to be here. He swears he does. _They all deserve better._

“That’s a lie. I just saw you protect someone an hour ago.”

Steve shakes his head. “That’s not it.” He doesn’t feel like elaborating. “You would have done the same.”

“Look man, all I’m saying is that for years you gave me someone to look up to for my entire life.” Steve looks up at him. He looks young, maybe early thirties. He looks the exact same age as he does, Steve realizes. He often forgets how young he is, not counting the ice. He sure never feels like his age. “You gave me someone to look to when I was feeling lost. I know that I’m nothing special, but you seem pretty lost right now. Figured you needed a little push, just like you used to give me.”

Steve has to clear his throat twice before his voice works. “Thank you.”

The cop nods his assent then says, “Get some rest. I’ll wake you if you get a call. Follow your dog’s lead. She’s a smart one.”

Violet has herself tucked into the wide bench they’re sitting on. She might not be asleep yet, but her eyes are closed. Between hanging out at the construction site with him earlier and all of this, she’s had a long day. Steve’s grateful that the cop took her out to use the bathroom before Steve called Sam. He seems like a decent guy. Violet sure doesn’t mind him.

Steve doesn’t drift off, even when some of the lights surrounding the holding cell are shut off. Instead he just listens to the ticking of the clock on the wall. He counts the seconds, losing himself in it. Hours pass.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. 

How many minutes has Steve lost, just being still? Just because his body refused to stop ticking like the machine it is? Steve wonders how many minutes he was asleep. How many minutes has he been gone this time? 

Then, “Cap, someone’s here for you.”

Years ago, more than seventy years ago now, when Steve was young he used to spend a lot of time thinking about how Bucky smelled. It was such a weird thing to do, even Steve knew that. He liked it though, the way Bucky smelled like clean clothes, a little like sweat and the outside, like the pomade he used to put on his hair. Bucky smelled like fun and laughter. Bucky smelled like comfort and his best friend that always made him smile. Steve used to be able to smell Bucky on his sheets for hours after Bucky had gotten up or left. He used to stick his nose in it and breathe as deeply and slowly as he could force himself to.

He smells Bucky before he sees him. It doesn’t smell quite the same. The hair product is different and the smell of his clothes are too. But even that’s familiar.

They smell like Sam’s.

His hands start to shake but he looks up anyway and there he is after all these months, all these goddamn years looking young despite his years and healthy and just as beautiful as he was when he was twenty-four- oh god-

Steve’s ears ring so loudly he can’t hear anything. He stands and gains his composure just enough to grab Violet’s leash. The cop is telling him something. Something about _court_ and _hearings_ and _charges_ but Steve can’t figure it out because Bucky’s there, standing on his right side with his arms crossed, nodding his head and glancing in between the cop and Steve. His eyes are so light. Have they been that light their entire lives? They’re almost gray. His hair’s still long but he has it tucked back in a knot on the nape of his neck. Little pieces of it that won’t stay are behind his ear so they stay away from his face. He’s got on a black jacket. He must have gotten a new arm. He’s not even bothering to cover up the hand anymore. It glints a little in the fluorescent overhead lights. 

Next, Steve’s shaking the cops hand goodbye and walking out the door. Free.

Bucky stops in front of a silver sedan and turns to face him. He’s saying something. Steve can’t figure it out, can’t hear beyond the ringing in his ears and the thundering in his chest. He tries to swallow around the lump in his throat and keeps looking straight into Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky’s hands come up to cradle Steve’s face. The metal one’s a little chilled. The ringing in Steve’s ears just stops.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

Bucky’s brow furrows up. “What did-” for a second Steve’s prepared for a lecture (he knows that tone of voice), but what he gets instead is something a little different. “Are you okay?”

Steve inhales and tries to sort through his thoughts. How does he even answer that? _I just got out of jail but I’m fine? I’m fine even though I miss you so bad it hurts? I’m fine even though ever since you came back Sam won’t talk to me?_

Bucky shakes his head and starts talking again before he can answer. “Sam was right then, you’re really gone.”

The mere mention of Sam’s name out of Bucky’s mouth is enough. All of a sudden Steve’s mad. He’s so fucking mad. He doesn’t care that Bucky’s months out of a cryo chamber. He doesn’t care that Bucky’s his best friend. He doesn’t care that he’s loved him for decades upon decades. He doesn’t fucking know. How could he know? He’s been gone too. 

“You don’t get to say that.” Steve grumbles. His voice is biting, rough around the edges. “You don’t get to come in here and try to tell me shit.” He watches as Bucky’s facial expressions change. They don’t fall or crumple, his face just goes blank. “You’ve been dea- you’ve been gone for so fucking long.” Steve pauses for a brief moment, scanning Bucky’s face. His eyes, still so light, still so pretty, fill with hurt and pain. It’s something Steve’s seen only a handful of times, mostly after Azzano. Bucky hurt and tortured and scared, keeping his face brave and pushing on. “You, you didn’t have to go back in. You didn’t have to leave again. There were other options. Bucky you-”

Violet’s been pulling at her leash in Steve’s hands for a few moments and she starts to bark. It’s then that Steve remembers she hasn’t been able to go to the bathroom for hours. He stops mid-sentence and walks her over to a patch of grass next to the police station, leaving Bucky standing alone by the car. After she goes he squats down low and rubs at her ears, praising her softly, shutting everything else out. She licks at his cheek and he can’t help but smile. She’s so much softer than she was when Steve found her. She’s healthier now. When he looks at her, he knows he’s done one damn thing right in his unnaturally long life. He has that much.

“I know why you did it.” Bucky tells him. The closer he gets to Steve, the more Violet tries to position herself behind Steve. She’s scared, he realizes. She’s just as uneasy around Bucky as he is. “I know because it’s the same reason I went back into cryo.”

“Yeah? And why is that?”

“To run.”

Steve’s hand freezes on Violets ear but he doesn’t bother to turn and look at Bucky. “It’s easier to run than it is to stand up and face things sometimes. Steve, you’ve been standing up and swinging since the day you were born. You were tired of fighting. You’ve never much been good at shit like this though.”

Steve does stand up then, holding Violet’s pink leash in his hand. “I’m not running.” He tells Bucky, even though he knows that’s a lie, even though he knows that Bucky knows he’s lying. 

“You are. But you don’t even fucking know what you’re really running from. Everyone wants you home, Steve. You just don’t feel like dealing with the guilt.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not. I want you home. Sam wants you home.” Bucky’s face is honest and open now, promising Steve that he’s not lying. It’s a gift, something that Bucky wants Steve to know. “He told me I had to come get you. Said I had to bring your little ass back here.” When Bucky says it he does his best Sam impression. On any other day, it would make Steve laugh. Now it makes his face fold up. He wants to cry. He wants to walk the few miles back to his Jeep and leave. He wants to keep running. This is all too much.

“Jesus, Steve just-” before Steve can stop it Bucky’s crushing him in a hug. An honest to god hug where Steve can feel Bucky’s warmth against his. He’s here, he’s really here and he’s okay. It’s all too much all at once and suddenly even the sun’s too bright so Steve just tucks his head into the crook of Bucky’s next and inhales as much as he can. He smells so similar to how he did before. He still smells like home, but this time it’s mixed up with Sam too. It’s still _home._

“I miss him.” Steve mumbles into Bucky’s shoulder. “I miss him so much.”

“I know.”

“I missed you. Fuck I missed you. I should have gone after you. I should have fucking looked when you fell. I could have saved you.”

Bucky shushes him and rocks Steve a little, soothing. “I never once thought that back then, or ever. Plus, you did save me just at a different time and place.”

Steve’s breath is shuddering and cracking against Bucky’s chest. He keeps Steve close to him and rubs a few circles on his back with his right hand. “You’re still the same Steve I know. Stubborn as hell. Too much of a hero to let anyone but himself be wrong.”

“I never stopped loving you.” Is what Steve says next, since he’s pretty sure he won’t get the courage to say it again, maybe ever. “I don’t know what it’s like to not love you or miss you. I’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember.”

“I hope you never stop loving me, but you can stop missing me.” Bucky tells him he finally pulls away just enough so that he can look Steve in the eyes. His hands come to rest on Steve’s shoulders and he bites at his bottom lip a little. “Come home?”

Steve shakes his head. “You know I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m of no use there! All I do is hurt people! You, Sam, Natasha- the only thing I’m good for is ruining all of your lives. Just look at what happened between everyone. None of you deserve that.”

“You’re so fucking wrong.” Bucky’s eyes drop to his shoes before they go back to Steve’s. “You’re so fucking wrong. Just stop _running_.”

“I’m right and we both know it.”

“Goddamn Steve, I don’t even know what to do with you!” Bucky laughs incredulously and runs his fingers through his hair down to his bun, pulling more of the hair out. “Food.” He says after a breath.

“Huh?”

“We should go eat.” Bucky gives him a tiny grin, but it’s just enough to make Steve’s heart flutter a few times. “Come on, let’s find a place that will take dogs outside or something. Might have to drive a few towns over but we can do it.” He thumbs at Steve cheek, drying a tear Steve didn’t even know had escaped. “Feelings are always easier on a full stomach.”

Steve gets him and Violet rounded up into the backseat of Bucky’s car. Violet’s nervous enough that she won’t quite settle, so Steve decides to sit in the back with her. He wraps an arm around her and she flops straight onto his lap. Her eyes close again. He wonders if she’s actually this tired or if she’s just choosing to ignore everything that’s happening right at this moment. Steve’s insanely jealous for a moment. He realizes in that moment how damn tired he is. It’s unsettling, being in the backseat of the car for a change, even when it’s Bucky who’s driving.

“You know where to go?” Steve asks him.

Bucky’s eyes flick up at him through the rear view mirror. “Do you?”

Steve’s mouth twitches upwards in a grin. “Nope.”

Bucky laughs, and if Steve had closed his eyes like he wanted to a minute ago he could have pretended it was 1939. It’s a brilliantly Bucky laugh. 

Bucky finds them a little cafe a few towns over. Violet sits at Steve’s feet and he feeds her scraps from his burger.

“Where are you headed next?” Bucky takes a bite of his own sandwich. He chews slowly and methodically, like maybe it’s hard for him to get the food down. Something inside Steve drops out from under him at the thought. Bucky raises his eyebrows in question.

“Dunno,” Steve says with a shrug. “I was thinking about going to the Grand Canyon for a while. Camp out for a few days.”

Bucky’s face is unreadable for a moment and it just serves as a reminded of how much they’ve both changed. They’re both so different now, time and space having torn them apart over the years. They’ve grown separately after they were ripped apart at the seams and had their lives stolen from them. Their lives ran in parallel lines, each one forcing them into different shapes. Steve knows so little about the man Bucky is now. He knows that Bucky’s still a survivor. He knows that Bucky will still look out for him no matter what. He knows that he’s still in love with him, even after all these years of involuntary distance.

Steve just wishes he knew Bucky well enough to figure out why he’s looking at him like that.

“Yeah,” Bucky tells him. “That sounds pretty cool.”

Bucky drives them all back to Steve’s Jeep after their meal. Steve knows that they were supposed to do a lot of important talking. He was supposed to leave that meal feeling better than he did in the beginning of it. He doesn’t.

Violet does, however. Bucky noticed her hesitancy towards him pretty quickly. He asked Steve if she didn’t like strangers. Steve didn’t want to say, ‘yeah she does I’m just nervous around you so she is too’ so instead he just suggested that Bucky feed her.

Bucky held out a french fry with his new metal arm. Steve knows it’s a deliberate choice. It’s protection.

Violet had taken the fry after snuffling around Bucky’s hand for a moment. After a few minutes, she had come back for another. After Violet had eaten the rest of Bucky’s fries, he even got to pet her for a few minutes. He smiled the whole time and it struck Steve just how sweet and innocent he was still. He has so much left inside him. Hydra couldn’t manage to steal all of him away.

Steve gets Violet inside the car and turns to say goodbye to Bucky. He’s torn, all twisted up inside from the past day. There’s so many things he has left to say before Bucky goes again. Before Bucky goes to where he’s supposed to be, with Sam.

“You forgot.” Bucky tells him, he’s still leaning against his own car. He pushes himself up off of it and strides over to Steve. He’s close when he stops, their chests half a foot apart. It makes Steve want to back up and give him space, even though he damn well knows Bucky doesn’t want it.

“What?” Steve can feel the heat of Bucky’s body close to him. He runs just as hot as Steve does.

“You know what you told me? It was,” he pauses to think. “I think it was somewhere in Austria. I remember being so fucking cold and scared out of my mind. I knew they had fucked with me even then.” Steve wants to reach out for him but manages to stop himself at the last minute. “I asked you what you wanted to do when we got home, knowing damn well we were both going to die out there. Do you know what you said?”

When Steve answers, his voice is just above a whisper. “What?”

“You were gonna take me to the Grand Canyon.” Bucky tells him with a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “We were gonna sleep in a tent on the edge. Forgetting is supposed to be my job.” 

Suddenly the memory rushes into Steve’s mind so fast he can’t help reaching out for Bucky now. He puts his hand on Bucky’s arm, his fingers landing on the hem of the shirt he’s stripped down to in the car. “You told me you were going to push me-” then he stops, because it’s not funny like it was then.

Bucky reaches out for Steve too, he slides both of his hands around Steve’s waist and takes another step closer. “Take me with you.” He says, quiet. They’re both still for a moment besides Bucky’s fingers gently playing with Steve’s soft shirt.Then he leans his face into Steve’s. His breath is hot against Steve’s face. His lips are a little chapped, his eyes are bright and big, Steve’s own breath gets stuck in his throat.

Miles and centuries all disappear when Bucky leans in to kiss Steve. It’s just a little thing, a sweet press of lips on lips. It’s a please, it’s a thank you, it’s a plead. Steve’s eyes close with it anyway, forcing himself to breathe instead of break down. Breathing in the scent of home and everything good just as he had years and decades before. “Then you come home with me. Come back to me and Sam. We love you.” Bucky kisses the side of Steve’s mouth this time. “We love you so much. I don’t think either of us could stop if we wanted to.”

“I don’t know.” Steve answers. He opens his eyes just enough to kiss Bucky one last time out of the fear that his answer will make Bucky want to leave, in case it’s the last chance he has. “I don’t know if I’m ready.” He swallows and looks Bucky straight in the eyes. “I don’t know if I”m ready to stop running yet.”

Bucky bites his bottom lip into his mouth, knowing that this is as honest as Steve can be right now, accepting it. “I’m still coming to the Grand Canyon with you. You promised me.”

Steve gives him a smile, a real one, because Bucky Barnes is still a little shit even now. Steve’s so fucking grateful. “Fine. A promise is a promise.” 

They don't stop to sleep, letting their souped up bodies push them along. 

“How long until I get to lay my eyes on the Grand Canyon, Steve?” Bucky breathes. The sun’s setting around them, painting the sky purple, pink and orange. It's reflecting off of Bucky's face when Steve glances at him. 

“About seven hours. Think we’ll need to stop?”

Bucky smiles, just a tiny hint of one like maybe his mind’s drifting somewhere else. Maybe back to a time when they wouldn't be able to last days with no rest. “Nope.”

Steve bites his lip, considering for a moment before he asks, “Sam gonna worry?”

“Nah. He told me to get out of his hair and leave him with Natasha for awhile.” Then Bucky shifts so that he's angled in Steve's direction. “He told me not to come back until I had you with me.”

“Might be out here a long time.” He manages. He's not done running and they both know it. Steve flicks his eyes to the backseat. In the rear view mirror he sees Violet curled up fast asleep, the breeze from their cracked windows ruffling her fur. 

“Sam bought a dog bed after Natasha came back.” It makes Steve glance at Bucky for a beat too long than what's considered safe. “It's pink. Like her leash. I heard him asking Natasha what color it was. When she told him pink he started laughing.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well with a name like Violet, purple would be the obvious choice.” Steve can hear the amused grin in his voice. “But I told him that you'd never go for what was obvious, even for a decision as little as that. You always have been difficult.” 

“Difficult,” Steve says slowly, rolling the word around on his tongue. He's equal parts amused and perturbed by the description. He's a little overwhelmed by the fact that not only did Bucky remember that about him, but that it was enough to make Sam laugh. He can hear Sam's laugh in the back of his mind even now, happy and booming, sounding like a warm summer’s day. 

Bucky lets out a rumbling chuckle, and that reminds Steve that it's been decades, ages since he's heard Bucky laugh, really laugh. He would laugh so hard he'd snort sometimes. Steve would do anything to hear the symphony of Bucky and Sam laughing together. He doesn't think that if he came back to them there'd be much laughing after a while. Steve has that way about him. He remembers Sam's eyes after he got out of the raft, so distant and far away, his laughter a distant memory just out of their reach. Steve’s at least a little relieved that Sam's laughing and smiling again. Him being away has done that much. 

“You're still a punk.”

“You're still a jerk, Barnes.” 

That makes Bucky chuckle some more. It makes Steve fill up with something he didn't know he was missing. He's been missing this- Bucky and all the good that goes along with him- for so long that it's just become a part of him. It makes him feel warm all over. Bucky notices and wraps his hand over Steve's where it's placed on the gearshift. “I missed you so much.” He tells Steve, running his thumb up and down Steve's knuckles. “I think I missed you when I didn't even know who you were.”

“I-” Steve starts. He doesn't know what he wants to say. I'm sorry I didn't come after you. I'm sorry they turned you into a shell and a weapon. I'm sorry they took so much from you when I was asleep. And he is sorry, and he wants Bucky to know but he can't get the words out, dammit. “Bucky-”

Bucky squeezes his hand. “I missed you,” he repeats. “But we're both here now and all I can think about is how damn pretty you look with the sun shining around you.”

Steve laughs a little, watery. “I missed you too,” he tells him, because even though it's all he can manage Bucky needs to know that too. 

“How long until we get there now?” Bucky asks. He slides down in his seat, making like he's going to take a nap. His hand’s still covering Steve's and he gives it a squeeze. 

“About seven hours.”

Bucky groans. 

Eventually, they get there. 

The sun’s setting over the canyon when they arrive; oranges, pinks, reds and yellows painting the sky. 

“Oh wow,” Bucky breathes. Steve looks over to him then. The sunset’s shining on his face, everything on the sky painted right overtop of Bucky too. After all they’ve been through, Steve thinks that he’d like to look at Bucky right now just as much as the wonder in front of them. 

Bucky drags both him and Violet out of the car before heading up to the railing overlooking the canyon. Steve leashes Violet and gives her a soft pet before following. He wraps Violet’s leash around his wrist and leans his forearms against the railing, mirroring Bucky’s posture. 

“I never-.” Bucky starts. He huffs, “I never want you to think that you can’t come home because of what I’m doing with Sam.” Steve looks up at him. Bucky bites on the edge of his lips and his eyes flirt to the ground for the briefest of moments. “I’ll stop if you’ll come back. If you want.” 

“Bucky,” Steve says flatly. “That’s the biggest load of shit that’s ever left your mouth.” Bucky looks at him, mouth agape, a little shocked. Steve says, “You don’t wanna stop. You just wanna ask me if I’m jealous and feel all guilty ‘bout loving my guy. You know that Sam would never forgive me if I pushed you out of his life. Never.” 

Bucky makes a face and goes back to looking out at the canyon. “I don’t deserve him.” 

“You dont,” Steve says. He switches Violet’s leash to his other hand and steps over her to stand next to Bucky. “I don’t either. I think the only one that really deserves him is Nat, and she won’t stay still long enough to let herself believe it.” 

Bucky laughs, ‘How did Sam manage to get the most fucked up group of lovers possible?” 

Steve laughs too at that. He leans his head over onto Bucky’s shoulder, breathing his scent in. “He’s an idiot,” he mumbles and when Bucky kisses the top of his head he lets his eyes close. Violet scooches herself closer and brushes up against his legs. “But God, I love him.” 

“I know,” Bucky says. “Me too.” 

They find a state campground a little ways off and Steve pitches the tent while Bucky goes to buy some hot dogs and snacks for them. Violet does nothing but get in Steve’s way. He trips over her more than once. He makes up for it by letting Bucky give her a hot dog when he gets back. It helps her warm up to Buck a bit, which makes Steve feel real good. 

After a while, Bucky gives a yawn so the three of them climb into a tent for normal sized people. There’s lots of giggling and elbows, both of them careful to leave Violet out of the line of fire. She eventually decides to curl up in the free space in the corner of the tent. 

Bucky lies with his hands behind his head and Steve crosses his on his chest. It's hot, but Steve doesn't mind (and doesn't want to think about why m). He's just wondering if Bucky shares his temperature preference when Bucky asks, “Wanna neck?”

He can't help it, he barks out a laugh. He hears Violet make an angry groan in the corner. “Oh my God, Barnes. That work on Sam?” But Steve turns over to face Bucky anyway, because he can't think of anything he'd rather do than kiss on Bucky right now. 

“Nope,” Bucky says, Steve can't see his smile but he knows it's there. “Does it work on you?” 

“Yeah,” Steve breathes and then they're kissing. It's wet and full of teeth and it takes them almost a minute to get the rhythm right but it's good. It's so good that Steve finds himself bringing his whole body closer to Bucky, pressing their hips together and breathing hard. 

“But Violet,” Bucky whispers. 

“What?” 

“We can't fool around in front of your dog, Steve.”

Steve pulls away, a little horrified. “Oh fuck no.”

“Wanna take this outside? I'll make it real romantic.”

Steve laughs but they do. There's a picnic bench nearby and Bucky (ever the boy scout) packed what they needed and grabs it. 

The stars are lighting their way as Steve sits himself down onto Bucky's lap. The moon’s sitting high in the sky as Steve lets Bucky undress him and kiss him like he's something real special, even in this big weapon of a body. Steve doesn't know why he's surprised, if anyone understands it's Bucky. 

Steve holds onto Bucky like his life depends on it. Bucky teases his nipples with his tongue and Steve arches into it, tangling his hands in Bucky's hair. He wants to pretend like if he closed his eyes, it'd be 1939 so he tries it. But he's still big and Bucky's metal arm is tugging at his dick just right and Steve finds out that staying in the now isn't so bad at all. 

Bucky slides inside him and says, “I love you,” and Steve believes him. He bites at Bucky's neck and against the skin says, “I love you too.”

It's a different year, a different time, but with Steve and Bucky? It still feels right. 

They hang their heads in shame when they get back in the tent and Violet pokes her head up from between her paws. “Sorry,” Steve tells her, like she really cares. 

Bucky lies down flat on his back and Steve pillows his head on his chest. 

“Thanks for taking me here, Steve,” Bucky tells him. 

Steve leans up and presses a kiss to Bucky's lips. “Thank you for making me.” 

The morning comes and before he knows what’s happening Bucky's kissing his cheek and talking. 

“Hmm?” Steve asks, too sleepy to understand what Bucky said.

“I gotta go,” Bucky repeats. He leans his face close to Steve’s, brushing at Steve’s hair gently to wake him up. 

“Wha-?” Steve blinks a few times until Bucky’s worried face comes into view. 

“Nat called, I gotta go.” Bucky pets at the side of his face, runs his hand through Steve’s hair. His brow is pinched up tight. He doesn’t want to go as much as Steve doesn’t want him to. Steve’s chest is clenching up, he’s not sure if there’s enough air in this tent anymore. “Come with me. I could use your help keeping Sam safe.” 

Steve almost goes, really, he does. He sits up and stares at Bucky for a whole minute, trying to get air, before he says, “I can’t. Bucky I-”

“It’s okay, baby,” Bucky says, soft. He’s down on his knees in front of Steve in an instant. When he wraps his arms around Steve he brings Steve’s head down to his chest and cradles it there. Steve doesn't notice at first that he’s crying. It a different cry, a panicked cry. Bucky recognizes it instantly, filling Steve up with the sound of his voice saying half a dozen pet names he hasn’t called Steve in over seventy years. “You come back when you’re ready. We love you so much. We love you so much.” 

He kisses the tears off of Steve’s face, then his lips, then he’s gone. Bucky’s off to save the world because Steve can't manage to do it anymore, because Steve failed so many times when he was trying. 

Violet pushes her entire face into Steve’s. “Vi-” he cries, breath hitching. “I-I want-” but the thing is Steve doesn’t know what he wants. He wants to go home, he wants to run and run until he can’t, he wants Nat and Sam, he wants to never see them again, he wants Bucky. Violet climbs herself up into Steve’s lap and rests her giant head on Steve’s shoulder. She kisses at his face. Her weight keeps him still and grounded. He wraps his arms around her and she lets him. He cries and cries into her fur, petting her ears and back. She stays exactly where she is, and lets him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come scream at me on [tumblr](unclesteeb.tumblr.com) and tell me MORE SAM!!!! I'll respond with #same because I feel you. There's two planned chapters left in this verse and the next is the long-awaited samsteve chapter. I've been DYING to write it, we just had to get here first! Thanks for reading :)


	4. Sam (part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Violet. Sam and Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING**  
> IN THIS CHAPTER STEVE IS ACTIVELY SUICIDAL. It is not intensely graphic, but it is very clear.
> 
> This is also the only time that this fic will switch out of Steve's pov. The text in italics is a flashback.

It's in Ohio again, when Steve's washing up in the bathroom, in the same town where he found Violet, where he looks at himself in the mirror. 

His hair’s grown long, tucking under his ears. His beard too. His eyes are sunken in and there are deep purple shadows around them, bruises from his lack of sleep. Has he slept since Bucky left? How long has it been? 

“I can't do this anymore,” Steve tells his reflection. 

Violet barks from outside the bathroom door. She paws at it, making a thumping noise from the other side. 

Steve takes a deep breath in. He picks up his phone from where he set it on the toilet seat. Natasha called him last night and he doubts she got a different number already. He prays she didn't. He releases his breath. Then calls.

Xxx

“Sam,” Natasha is shaking him awake, beside him, Bucky shoots upright. “Sam, get up. You gotta go.”

“Go where, Nat? What’s going on?” Bucky’s voice has a tone to it that Sam rarely hears. 

He opens his eyes and sees Natasha’s face in front of him. Her eyes are big and scared, her cheeks pale. “You gotta go get him. He won’t listen to us. You g-g-otta-”. It’s the first time that Sam’s ever seen Natasha actually cry. He’s known that she does, he’s seen the aftermath of her being upset. He’s held her when she’s needed it, when she’d let him. But she’s never broken down in front of him like this before. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky asks. His metal arm whirrs in preparation. “‘Tash, tell us what you know.” 

The bottom sinks out from Sam’s stomach. 

“He c-called me. Called me and asked if-” she takes a big, gasping breath. “He called me and asked me to come pick up Violet.” 

“Why?” Sam’s skin breaks out in goosebumps. 

Natasha blinks and a tear escapes down her cheek. “He says he doesn’t want her anymore.” 

Xxx

_“Did you stop talking to Steve because I’m here?” Bucky asks him. It’s completely dark around them, but the moon allows Sam to make out Bucky’s profile in the dark._

_“No,” Sam says. “I stopped talking to Steve because every time I did, he tore out my heart and stomped on it. I stopped talking to him because he’s so damn stubborn he can’t see past his own self to see how badly him not being here hurts me.”_

_Bucky takes Sam’s hand in his. He still hasn’t gotten a new left arm yet. He says he’s not sure if he wants to. Sam doesn't mind either way. He says, “He’s been like that since the day I met him. He’s lucky he’s the best guy in the world.”_

_Sam chuckles a little, “He really is. Any other self- respecting man would have just moved on by now. But I can’t, not with Steve. That man and I are joined at the soul. I can’t let him go.”_

_“But you can distance yourself, and that’s what you’re doing now, right?”_

_“Exactly. The pain of not talking to him at all is better than the pain of hearing his voice and knowing that he doesn’t want to be here.” Sam pats the space on the bed between them without realizing it. He thinks about Steve in between them, wrapping them both up in his arms, loving the both of them, laughing with Sam about how Bucky snores. Then Sam wants to cry. “Fuck,” he says, laughing at little at himself and how his eyes start to sting._

_“Do you think Natasha’s going to come back with him?”_

_“No,” Sam says, honest and quiet. Natasha had just left to go find Steve a few days prior. Sam knows that she’ll find him, but he doesn’t think that she’ll bring him back. “I think that you could, though.”_

_“Me?”_

_“I’ve seen Steve do an awful lot for you, Bucky,” Sam tells him. It isn’t a statement based on jealousy, just facts. Sam knows how much Steve’s done for Bucky. He was right there doing it all too. Sam feels Bucky’s body shrink in on himself. He may say he wishes that Steve was there with them, but Sam knows he’s still terrified of the thought. He and Steve have so much history, so much unfinished business. “When you’re ready,” Sam adds._

_Bucky breathes in, then out slowly. He says, “When will you be ready?”_

_Sam closes his eyes against the spike of actual physical pain he feels in his chest when Bucky asks the question. Bucky seems to pick up on it right away. He turns and wraps his entire body around Sam’s. “When he comes home,” Sam answers, after a few minutes. “When Steve comes home, I’ll be ready to love him again.”_

Xxx

“He said what?” Bucky looks frantically between Natasha and Sam for a minute. He turns to grab his phone off of the side table before he tries Steve’s number. The computer voice on the line tells them that it’s been disconnected. “What the fuck?” 

“He called me this morning. He sounded very calm, too calm. There was no inflection in his voice. He was too quiet.” 

“Do you think someone has him?” Sam asks.

“No.” Natasha looks straight into Sam’s eyes. “I think he wants me to come pick up Violet so he can give up.” She blinks back more tears. “Violet’s the only thing keeping him moving. If she’s gone… then he can go too.” 

The three of them sit quietly on the bed for a while, the harsh reality of how far Steve’s gone settling in. “Is this my fault?” Bucky whispers. “Ever since I left for that AIM job he’s seemed a bit off.” 

“No,” Sam says, “It’s mine. I should have been talking to him. He needed this break, he nee-”

“No he didn’t,” Bucky tells him. If anyone knows, it’s him. Bucky knows a thing or two about disappearing because you think it’ll keep someone else safe. 

“It’s not your fault,” Natasha tells him.

“I know. I know, I know.” Then Sam draws his knees up close to his chest. He thinks of a world without Steve Rogers in it. He thinks of a life devoid of his bright shining light, his dumb jokes, his awful sense of nobility that hurts just as much as it helps. He thinks of a world without Steve being there to kiss him awake from nightmares, without ever being able to hear the rumble of Steve’s voice through his chest, without ever being able to see the way his long eyelashes blink open in the morning. “This isn’t fair,” Sam tells them both. “This isn’t fair. I want him to come home. Why can’t he just come home?” 

“You have to go get him,” Natasha lets out. She places a hand on the small of Sam’s back. “He needs you.” 

Sam had a nightmare once, right after he stopped calling Steve. Steve was falling, falling fast. Falling like Riley, falling like Rhodey. He didn't catch him- just like he couldn't catch either of them. He woke up covered in sweat and face stained with tears. This feels a lot like that. 

Sam blinks, swallows. “Where is he?” 

Xxx

It’s too hot for Violet to be without water, Steve figures. She’s panting pretty badly. “I’m sorry,” he tells her. He takes the rest of his water bottle and dumps it in a bowl. “Natasha said she would be here today to get you. You’ll love their house.” Violet drinks greedily from the bowl and Steve continues. “Sam’s there, Bucky too. You like Bucky. He’ll sneak you food under the table. I bet Sam would yell at him for it. He doesn’t mean any harm by it, he just knows you probably should be limiting your human food. You’re going to be treated like a queen there, Vi.” 

Steve rubs at her back gently. He knows what he’s going to do when Natasha comes to get Violet. He doesn’t know if Natasha will try and stop him. He thinks he’ll tell her he found new intel for a Hydra base in Austria if she fights him on it. He’s sure he could actually find one over there too if he looked hard enough. The bad things in Steve's life? They never actually go away. 

He doesn't know how long he and Violet have been sitting on the bench at the park where he told Natasha to meet him when a car pulls up. 

All the breath in Steve's lungs gets sucked out when he sees who steps out of it. Because it's not Natasha. 

It's Sam. 

His shoulders are up around his neck and his fists are tight at his sides when he walks up to Steve. He stops a few feet away. For a moment, the world stops spinning. For a moment, it's just the gentle breeze of the summer turning to fall as Steve Rogers looks at the man that he's loved more than anyone else. For a moment, nothing exists outside of Steve and the man that he left, the man that he hurt. 

“Get in the car, Steve,” Sam says, low. 

Steve blinks, air is pushed back into his lungs. He doesn't get it. “No, Violet-”

“I said get in the car. She's coming too.” Sam finally looks up at him. His eyes are red-rimmed. 

“That's not-”

“Get up,” Sam tells him, commanding, a bit mean. “We’re leaving.”

“Sam-” Steve tries again, because Sam's not getting it. He needs to just take Violet. Steve needs to keep going until he can stop. Violet jumps down off of the bench to hide behind it. 

Sam takes a few steps closer to him. He reaches out for Steve's hand and pulls him to his feet. “Come on.”

“No, Sam. No! Stop!” Sam's pulling him and pulling him.

Sam whips around to face him. “No, you stop! Stop fucking around and come home! I've had enough of this shit!” Sam's eyes are frantic and full of agony. He’s still pulling Steve, walking backwards. Steve lets himself be pulled a few feet ahead before using his weight to keep Sam from moving any further. “Stop it!” Sam shouts. He's starting to cry. “Come on, Violet! Come on, come on!” 

“Sam,” Steve breathes, his heart shattering into tiny pieces. He's free-falling. “I can't.”

“Yes you can!” Sam closes the distance between them, standing them chest to chest. “You're wrong!” He lets go of Steve's hand and with both hands pushes at Steve's shoulders, knocking Steve back a step. “Yes you can! Please, please just get in the car! I've been driving for two days, just get in the car!” 

“I love you,” Steve tells him, because that's all he can say. He needs Sam to know that much. “Sam-”

“Then come home!” Sam picks up his hands to push at Steve again. Steve stops him, wrapping both his arms around Sam's body. Sam grits his teeth and yells, frustrated, mad. “Shut up! Shut up!” He's pounding on Steve's chest now with his fist. “I hate you, I hate you.”

“I love you.”

“You LEFT ME! You left us all. I'm tired. I'm so tired. Get in the car. Now!” 

“You gotta leave me and take her.”

“No!” Sam hits his chest again, weaker, crying harder. “No, no, no. You can't-” he breaks off into a sob. “You selfish bastard, you can't do that to me!”

Steve feels his world crack and shatter as he stops falling and lands hard on the ground. He realizes at that point, what he's known inside this entire time. He's running- not for the good of Sam, or Natasha or Bucky or Violet even. He's running because he is nothing but a coward. He's doing more harm than good. Not even his death would take the pain away from the people he loves. 

“You can't do that to me.”

Steve's breaths shudder and crack in his throat as he croaks, “I know.”

“You stupid- you stupid, selfish- ugh!” Sam breaks off in another frustrated yell, but it's quieter still now. He squirms in Steve's arms and pushes at his chest again. Steve holds still. Steve holds him tight. “Please, please Steve. Please just-” Steve pushes his hand on the back of Sam's neck gently, getting Sam to pillow his head onto Steve's shoulder. Sam doesn't talk anymore, but his body shakes with how hard he's crying. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Steve says it over and over again into Sam’s hair. Sam’s still pushing at him with one hand and holding at him desperately with the other. He doesn’t know what he wants Steve to do. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” Steve tells him, because it’s the only true thing he knows right now. 

Sam’s face is in the crook of his neck and he’s breathing, smelling him, crying too hard to talk still. He’s pounding at Steve’s chest again with his fist, but he’s letting Steve hold him close. Steve strokes up and down the back of his head, still murmuring to Sam. He’s not making promises because he can’t keep a single one. But he does love him, he does love the way Sam feels in his arms again, the way Sam’s skin smells the same. “I love you,” he tells Sam when he finally wraps both of his arms around Steve too. “I love you,” He tells him when Sam fists both of his hands into Steve’s shirt and pulls it so tight that Steve couldn’t get away without ripping the fabric. He presses a soft kiss to Sam’s forehead and his breath hitches when Sam whimpers at the feel of it. 

“I hate you,” Sam tells him. It’s honest and raw, choking the words out at the end of a sob. “Why did you do this to me?”

That makes Steve start to cry too, a little. He starts to rock them both, just gently, soothing. “I don’t know,” he manages. He keeps Sam close and sniffs. He rocks them back and forth, back and forth. “I just wanted to run,” he admits. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

Steve buries his face into Sam’s shoulder. He breathes, and breathes, and doesn’t dare to try and let go of Sam. Not after all he’s done. The minutes pass as they hold each other. Steve feels this little life he's had fall out from underneath him. He has a home still. It never went away. It never will. Part of it is right here in his arms. Eventually, he hears Violet walk up behind him and sit. Maybe even she knows that it's time to stop running. It's time to stay still. 

He turns his face to the side and asks, quiet, “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we come home? Please?” he can barely get the words out. He’s so damn scared of the answer. He can’t keep living like this. This isn’t a life he wants to live anymore. He's tired of being a roaming nomad. He's just plain tired. 

It takes long enough for Sam to answer that Steve stops knowing what he’ll do if Sam says no. When he answers, it's simple. “Yeah.” 

“Oh,” Steve lets out, breath rushing out of him. The fight rushing out of him right along with it. He slumps against Sam’s body and feels Sam shift to hold him up. “I wanna go home, Sam. I wanna go home.” 

“Okay,” Sam says, He lifts Steve’s head up with both of his hands. He presses a kiss to the side of Steve’s mouth, another to his cheek. He runs his hands through Steve’s hair. Steve leans into it, feeling like a man starved from the thing he’s needed most. “Let’s go home.” Sam tells him. Steve’s going home- Violet too. They’re finally going home. Sam thumbs at his cheekbones and Steve thinks he’s the most beautiful person that he’s ever seen. He knows it. Sam lets out a shuddering breath and says, “ Let's all go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SAM!!!! STEVE!!! VIOLET!!! GOING HOME!!!
> 
> I wanted to split up Sam's chapter into two, since this is obviously a big turning point for Steve. There's still a hard road ahead, but Steve's GOING HOME!


	5. Sam (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update after a LONG break but this is another chapter that needed to hold its own. The next one will have a much different tone.

On the ride home, Steve sleeps. 

At one point he startles awake enough to hear Sam calling for Violet to get out of the car. When he returns with her in tow, Steve blearily attempts to open his eyes. Sam looks at him, eyes harsh and angry and somehow so full of love that Steve instinctively reaches out for him. “You look like shit,” Sam tells him. Steve watches him swallow hard and leans into Sam’s hand when it moves to touch the side of Steve’s face. After a moment Sam takes his hand back to start the car. Steve watches it the whole way, wishing, hoping, praying for it to come back and to feel Sam’s touch again. 

That’s when Sam reaches his hand out and intertwines it with Steve’s. 

On the ride home, Steve lies on Sam’s arm and weeps.

Xxx

He wishes he could remember what made him feel this bad. He wishes he could blame it on Bucky’s departure- and he guesses he can a little. Bucky leaving pulled the last string inside Steve’s heart and snapped it. But it wasn’t because of Bucky really, it was because of himself. Steve realized then that he left and time didn’t stop. He left and the world kept spinning without him. The people he loved reached a point where continuing to love him was hurting them too badly to keep going. He realized then, that he fucked up. 

He remembered the alps. He remembered the ice-cold air stinging his eyes. He remembered Violet’s hot breath on his arm when she snuggles up to him. He remembered why he couldn’t just let himself die like he wanted. He remembered his ties to Violet, to this damn dog he found- he saved, were the only thing saving him. 

He called Natasha shortly after.

Xxx

“He’s just been asleep.” Is what he wakes to. The next thing he hears is the servos in Bucky’s arm whirring. He blinks his eyes open to see Bucky, _god it’s really him_ , in front of him. He’s illuminated by a soft warm porch light Steve thinks he looks like home until he realizes his left arm is cold and that means Sam isn’t there and suddenly the warmth of their porch light isn’t warm- it’s burning hot and horrifying and “Sam? Sam? Where-“

“I’m right here, Steve. I didn’t go.” The way that he trails off implies the “like you” that he won’t say because he can tell that Steve’s barely hanging onto his sanity by a thread. Steve feels it anyway and feels his lip start to quiver like a child. 

He guesses it’s only fitting that Bucky picks him up by his waist. He shuffles Steve around a little and when Steve’s head hits his shoulder he sags into Bucky’s body and blinks his tears out onto his shirt. 

“I haven’t gotten to carry you in years,” Bucky whispers to him and kisses his cheek. He hears Sam wrangling Violet inside with a high-pitched voice. 

“Where’s she?”

“She-“ Bucky sighs. He gets Steve into he and Sam’s bedroom. He wants Natasha so badly he can’t breathe for a moment. Then Bucky turns on the lights and suddenly everything’s too bright. He winces even with his eyes shut and his body tenses. His ears start ringing. 

Bucky notices, says, “Let’s get you into bed, punk.” And it’s 1937 this time- or it would be if Steve weren’t aching with the need to have Sam close again. 

“Is he coming?” 

“Sam…” Bucky lays Steve out on the bed and climbs in next to him. Steve keeps his eyes closed. He’s afraid of the sensory overload if he opens them. “Sam will always come for you, but right now he’s just taking your girl out to pee.” 

“She needs to eat,” Steve’s almost proud of his memory of his dog’s basic needs.

“He bought food for her months ago. It was here before I was.”

“Oh,” Steve whines. His eyes start to prickle again and Bucky shushes him. “I was so mean.” 

“You were,” Bucky soothes. “But we love you anyway.”

“I want Sam.”

“I know. He wants you too. Just give him a minute.”

Like he’s been summoned, Sam appears. “You couldn’t even get him undressed? What are you good for?” Sam teases. “Come here, Steve.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, reaching up towards Sam like a sunflower, desperate.

Xxx

Steve remembers feeling the hopelessness that he felt when he realized, finally, that he lost Sam.

It was a physical ache. He was 90 pounds again, sick again with it. 

Sam brought him back from the walking dead once. Violet brought him back the second time. 

She deserved better than him. She deserves someone like Sam. Someone better than Steve could ever be. Someone Steve desperately tried to love the right way, and failed. 

Xxx

Sam’s strong, calloused hands remove Steve’s shirt first before cupping his face. “Can you open your eyes?”

Steve shakes his head.

“It’s the light,” Bucky explains. 

“You’re overwhelmed,” Sam states in an awed voice. Steve realizes with a sinking feeling that Sam’s been so angry at him to realize Steve would come home less than half the person he was when he left. 

“You are too,” Steve manages. 

“Yeah,” Sam says, after a beat. Then, “Lie down. Help me get your pants off.” Steve obeys and feels Sam’s hands -they’re so gentle, too gentle- take his pants off. 

Bucky flicks off the light and says, “I’m gonna, uh, go get Vi.”

“Yeah okay.” Sam breathes out like he’s grateful for the time alone with Steve. Steve can’t seem to figure out why.

He hears the rustling of Sam’s clothes before the bed dips and Sam climbs into it with him. For a minute, Steve shivers without his touch, wanting it so badly he could die right there. Sam slides his hand over Steve’s and says through Steve’s sigh of relief, “I am so mad.”

“I know.”

“I’m so-“ Sam stops and takes a sharp breath. “Fucking happy you’re here.” 

It takes Steve a full three minutes to reply, head full of soup. “Me too.” He says, “You’re not okay.” 

“I haven’t been since you left.”

Sam then, miraculously scoots closer to Steve on the bed and presses their bodies together. Steve feels his soul sigh, he swears it. 

“I’m not going anywhere. Anymore.”

“Promise me.”

“What?” Steve opens his eyes finally in the dark and sees the outline of Sam’s beautiful, gorgeous face in the dim light. He loves him. God, he loves this man.

“Tell me you’re done running. Tell me it or this is it, Steve. I can’t do this again. I, I love you too damn much to do this again.”

Steve swallows, and his voice comes easy to him when he’s this wrapped up in Sam’s light. “I promise. I’m done running.” 

“Good,” Sam says, his voice cracking. “Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I keep extending Sam’s part in repentance to both himself and me (and y’all) for having him be so distant for so long. I have a feeling this one won’t stay unloved for very long. Thank you all for your patience as I took a break from writing to moderate the Sam Wilson birthday bang. It was such a joy and a struggle, but I’m glad to be back :).


End file.
